Squash
by nor do i
Summary: England teaches Sealand what being a nation really is. oneshot.


I was walking home today and stepped on ant hill. I felt bad, and this is a result of that guilt.

RIP anthill.

Don't own, enjoy~

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Sealand trotted outside, making sure to slam the door even more loudly than usual. He kicked at tufts of grass, sending small blades flying up in the air, his hands clenched into tight fists. He had only come over to talk to England, and try to show the older nation how mature he was and how capable of being a nation he was...but of course, England was England, and simply regarded it as Sealand being an annoying pest. _I'm only a pest because he doesn't listen! _The young nation thought to himself as he kicked at the ground.

Coming upon England's walkway, Sealand noted the many cracks in the cobblestone. England was beginning to neglect his garden, and weeds were growing unkempt, making the pretty flowers that bloomed every year seem uglier and uglier. Sealand grabbed some of the flowers and plucked them, simply leaving the weeds. It served England right. If he was strong enough, Sealand would have demolished the entire garden right then and there. But instead, something else caught his eye. Along the pathway he spotted a small anthill. Kneeling on the ground, Sealand saw that up close, there were many ants walking to and from the hill, some carrying food, while others simply strolled along, helping the others when needed. The hill itself was pretty large, for an anthill. They must have been living here for a while.

Bringing down his pinky finger, Sealand squished one of the ants carrying food. He almost smiled. What great power this gave him, knowing that was finally stronger than something. He brought his tiny hands down again and again, smashing the ants as his skin met the cobble. Before long, there was a battlefield filled with the bodies of dead ants. Their blood was on Sealand's hands. He stood back up again, and with one swift kick, the anthill toppled to the ground. The civilization had been crushed.

"Oi, Sealand! What are you doing?"

Spinning around, young Sealand glared at old England. The two were always bickering, and today was no different. England wore a face of stone, of dealing with kids, while Sealand wore his emotions on his sleeve.

"I'm showing these ants who the real nation is!"

"Real nation?" England shook his head. "Sealand, you're not-"

"Shut up, Stupid England! I am too a nation! I'm a great nation! And those dumb ants just felt the wrath...of Sealand!" He sat back on the ground, pulling his knees to his chest and pouting.

England sighed, exasperated. Why did kids have to be so hard to deal with? He sat down near Sealand, staring at the wreckage that was once Antopia.

"You can't just go around crushing anthills, you know."

"Why?" Sealand barked. "Are your faeries going to come and scold me?"

England frowned. "Well, yes, of course, I mean, it's bad karma. But that's not the point." He was quiet for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Think of that anthill like a country. Before you came, it was a thriving little metropolis. They people were happy, jobs were plentiful, and everything is going great."

Sealand laughed. "Stupid England! They're just ants!"

Ignoring his comment, England continued. "But then you show up, and start squashing the population. Before long, the country is a helpless wasteland, and the people are all afraid of their new ruler. Eventually, you'll attack other, larger countries in hopes of taking over them, too. Next you could take over the robin's nest. Or the rabbit hole behind the tree. You're trying to build an empire, eh? Other countries will try to stand up to you. Some might appease to you, others will flat out tell you to stop. Tell me, Sealand, what would you do then?"

"I would..." he began, tapping his chin. "I would tell all the countries to leave me alone, Sealand is going to be the greatest empire there ever was, and that nothing could stop me!"

England shook his head, a sad, distant look in his eyes. "And that's how we get ourselves into world wars."

Frowning, Sealand shot another glare towards his older brother. "But England, people need to see me as a strong country! I can't be weak, I have to take over countries before my country gets-"

"Sealand," England interrupted. "There is a difference between being assertive, and being tyrannical."

They sat in silence. The birds seemed to be singing a solemn tune, as if to mourn the ants that had lost their lives. Sealand could feel tears pricking at his eyes, but no, he wasn't going to cry, especially not in front of England. They simply sat on the cobblestone walkway, just a few feet away from the ants, listening to the birds. Eventually, England stood up, dusting off his pants and staring at his younger brother.

"I'm going inside. You coming?"

He didn't recieve an answer. Sealand stared into nothing, refusing to look at England. Shrugging with another sigh, England trotted back into the house. Honestly, it seemed he was just bad at raising kids. He had lost America, Canawho had turned out to be virtually useless, and now Sealand was turning into the next power hungry nation. It would only be a matter of time before England would be having conferences, trying to stop his brother from taking over the world.

But a little while later, England happened to look out the window. He could feel a soft smile break onto his face.

Sealand was carefully bringing piles of dirt onto the cobblestone, placing it on top of the ants. He watched his younger brother recite a few words for the fallen bugs, and then he stood, simply staring at his makeshift burial ground. England thought he saw a couple of tears.

But Sealand was too big of a nation to cry in front of him.


End file.
